Flatmates
by randomplotbunny
Summary: Jim owed John a favor, so when John was invalided out of the Army Jim saw his opportunity to repay the kind doctor for saving his life. He never thought it would become more than just a repayment of a debt owed, but it did. And now Sherlock has arrived on the scene and is trying to poach Johnny out from under him. That just will not do.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.**

_John's squad had been on call that night, and it was a night to remember._

_Several dozen bombings had taken place in the space of just a few minutes, and utter chaos ruled the scene._

_Vehicles opened up like sardine cans, bodies twisted past recognition- it was a nightmare scene for even the most hardened war vet to experience._

_The wreckage was still burning when they arrived to help, and John was the first man to wade through the twisted metal and flames to try and approach the only, mostly intact, vehicle left._

_As soon as he touched the door it fell off. The driver was dead, but the passenger in the backseat was still breathing- if only in labored gasps._

_"I've got a live one here!" He shouted to his teammates as he climbed into the unstable wreck to aid the injured man._

_"Civilian, caucasian, mid to late twenties, low BP, labored breathing, unconscious." He called out as his team arrived._

_They managed to get the man out before his car too blew up. He was the only survivor that they found._

_It was hard work trying to save the man's life, but John never gave up. After three hours of surgery they had finally stabilized their mystery man and moved him to the recovery bay._

_He was too unstable to transport until he woke up so they had to keep him for a while, and as John's unit was coming off rotation he decided to keep an extra eye on the mystery man even though he wasn't a part of the support staff and therefore shouldn't be in the recovery ward except for emergencies._

_And so that was why John was present three days later when the man- no-one could find any information on him anywhere and so they still didn't have a name to call him by- finally opened his eyes._

_"Hello there, Sleeping Beauty, I'm glad to see you're finally awake." John said idly as he checked the patients vitals manually._

_"How..." The man began before his voice gave out. John helped him to take a drink of water before attempting to answer the half verbalized question._

_"How did you get here?" At the man's nod, John explained._

_"We were called out to a bombing site a few days ago, we found you and we brought you back here for emergency surgery. Now that you're awake you'll probably be transferred to a better hospital further behind enemy lines." John paused here, unable to decide if he should tell the just awoken man that he was the only survivor or not._

_"Who else?" Came the quiet query, firmly taking the choice from the doctor. With a sad smile and kind eyes firmly trained on the patient, John answered._

_"I'm sorry, but you were the only one we found alive." Instead of the expected shock from hearing such news, the man simply gave a satisfied smile and closed his eyes to sleep some more._

_It took two days to arrange nonemergency medical transport for the civilian, and in that time they had learned a bit more about the mystery man- though not nearly enough to satisfy the gossipy soldiers._

_His name was Jim, but he refused to give a surname to accompany his proper one- he said it wasn't of importance._

_He worked as a consultant, but refused to say anymore about his work than that._

_He was quite the charmer and had every member of his support staff wrapped around his finger by the end of his first day of consciousness, but he only had eyes for John- or at least that was the rumor that had started after Jim's fifth inquiry about the blonde doctor that he had first woken up to. He seemed quite put out when he realized that John wasn't his active-care doctor._

_The day of the transfer came, and with it a request from Jim to speak with John before he was loaded into the ambulance._

_Hurrying to see the patient he hadn't laid eyes on since the man had regained his senses, John wondered at what they could possibly have to say to each other._

_"Johnny!" Jim, who was still attached to heavy pain killers and so could be forgiven such excesses of emotion, called out in glee as he caught sight of the doctor._

_"Hello." John said as he sat on the edge of the narrow cot._

_"What? Am I not your 'Beauty' today?" Jim asked playfully, but before John could answer- he had hoped that Jim had still been too out of it to remember that embarrassing comment- the injured man put on a serious expression._

_"Dr. Watson, I just wanted to thank you personally for saving my life." Holding up a hand, Jim cut off John's attempts at modesty._

_"No, let me finish. I've talked to everyone who would talk about what happened that day, and they all say the same thing: you risked your own life to pull a half dead man from a burning wreck, you then slaved away for several hours in surgery on said man. I asked the doctor who's been keeping tabs on me just what my chances of survival really had been before you saved me. Do you know what he said?" When no response came he continued._

_"He said that, considering the extent of my injuries, I should have died- if not in the car then on the operating table. He said that no-one else could have saved my life but you." __John tried to protest, but Jim would have none of it._

_"You saved me, and only you could have done it. You are a miracle worker John, my personal miracle worker. I owe you my life, and that's a debt that I intend to someday pay." John began to protest, but just then the nurses showed up to cart Jim outside to the awaiting ambulance._

_"Someday, Johnny. Someday!" Jim called out to the befuddled doctor just before the doors shut and he was taken away._

Present day:

He had just been released from the hospital the day before after several grueling months of intense treatment and physical therapy, and was now sitting in a cafe, nursing a really bad cup of tea, and trying not to think of the sudden turn his life had taken.

He had been a great surgeon- one of the best that the Army had and they knew it- but now his hand trembled too much to even keep his cuppa steady long enough to finish a sip.

He'd had the body of a Greek God- or at least that's what all his previous lovers had told him- but now he had a limp and couldn't put strain on his left shoulder, he knew all his muscle tone would be long gone far too soon.

He'd had friends galore, now he only had Harry to talk to- she'd come by the hospital once, drunk, handed him her old phone and told him to keep in touch. She had been his only visitor since his return to England.

Downing the last of his now cold tea, John decided that he couldn't put off returning to the depressing flat that Ella had found for him. And that was another thing about his life that he hated at the moment: Ella.

She was a good enough therapist, and if he were some idiot civilian then he would find her to be a pleasant enough confidant; but he wasn't and he didn't and she just didn't seem to get that.

He is- was- a soldier. He had looked men dead in the eye and shot them.

He was- is- a doctor. He had taken the men he had shot and stitched them up again with nothing more than a spool of wire and a fishing hook- you sometimes simply had to make do on the front lines with anything you had on hand.

He understood that he had problems, he'd be an idiot not to, but he just couldn't understand how this soft, pressed-suit, never been in a fire-fight, probably thought being late for a manicure was a life-crisis woman was supposed to help him.

Taking a deep breath, and dispelling the line of thought that had distracted him there for a moment, John began to stand to leave.

A hand- thankfully on his right shoulder- gently pushed him back down.

"You're not leaving yet, are you Johnny?" Repressing the urge to grab for his gun at the surprise- it was still back at his flat anyway- John took a moment to look over the suit wearing man that had just taken the seat across from him, trying to place where he'd seem that face at before.

It suddenly clicked.

"Jim?" The brunette's eyes lit up at being remembered.

"So you remember me! Do you also remember what I promised you?" John gave a short nod.

"You said you wanted to repay a perceived debt that you owed me, but that really isn't necessary." His protests were waved off.

"Nonsense. If I think it's necessary then it is necessary." Realizing that he was slowly losing the argument, and not really seeing a point in having one in the first place, John decided to just see what this man- whom he hadn't seen in years- wanted.

"Well, let's start with a new place for you to live. We can see what else needs doing after that." Was the immediate reply.

'Just what have I gotten myself mixed up in?' John thought, and immediately followed it up with:

'And who exactly is this 'Jim' anyway?'


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Sorry for the delay in updating, real life got in the way. _

_For those of you who got into this story when it was rated 'T' I just want to warn you that I've changed the rating to 'M'. I'm not even sure how I made that mistake in the first place._

**Disclaimer: If I owned anything here then my pockets would be lined with gold, but since they're lined with lint instead then you can tell that none of it belongs to me.**

It had been six months since the incident with the cabby and his acquisition of the name 'Moriarty' and he finally had a break in the case.

After six months of associating with the worst scum London had to offer- murders, human traffickers, government officials, his brother- Sherlock finally had not only a full name and tittle to go by but an address as well.

Jim Moriarty, World's only Consulting Criminal, was going to get a visit from the World's only Consulting Detective.

This would be a meeting of epic proportions.

The house itself was fairly unremarkable, as was the street it was located on, but that just made it all the more perfect of a hiding spot.

Giving the building a once over in the late afternoon sun he concluded that it was empty and that now would be a perfect time to make his first foray into enemy territory.

Walking casually to the back entrance- it would look less suspicious than if he tried to skulk about(an amateurish maneuver that he refused to take part in)- he disconnected the security system and jimmied the kitchen door open.

Stepping inside he immediately found that the house wasn't as empty as it had seemed.

The man was short, and blonde, and seemed to have a horrible attraction to frumpy jumpers; and was surprisingly steady while holding a gun pointed straight at Sherlock's forehead.

What was even more shocking than walking into(alright, breaking into) an occupied house and coming face-to-face with a gun wielding ex-army doctor- he had deduced as much in the first few seconds of spotting the man, as well as the fact that the man obviously lived here, worked in an A&amp;E and had recently started working the night shift in the last week- was when the short man reset his safety and put the weapon back in its holster.

"Be thankful Jim told me you'd be showing up and breaking in at some point this week, Mr. Holmes, or else you'd have a hole in your head at the moment. Tea?" Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Sherlock simply gaped- though he would adamantly deny it at any given chance- and watched as the older man began puttering around the kitchen.

"Well close the door and come inside. Jim isn't here right now, but he should be back before I head off for shift if you want to wait. He said to make you feel welcome, though he didn't say why, and I can't do that if you're standing in the doorway." Belatedly closing the door, Sherlock finally moved fully into the modern style kitchen and took a seat at the bar-top island counter.

"Who..." He forcibly had to fight back a blush as he stammered over his question- he hadn't been this blind-sided by a person since the last he'd been a child!

Thankfully the blond doctor didn't seem to notice his floundering and simply answered the unfinished question.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I completely forgot to introduce myself. John Watson." Sherlock took the offered hand and gave it a shake over the expanse of the narrow kitchen island.

"Sherlock Holmes." John gave an amused snort before trying to cover it up with a small cough while giving Sherlock an apologetic look.

"Sorry. It's just that when Jim first told me your name I thought he was making a joke." John looked properly contrite and Sherlock was surprised to see that the man actually meant what he was saying.

Just who was this man and why was he living in the same house as a World Class Criminal Mastermind?

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Jim was lounging in one of his many offices while watching the live feed from one of his hidden cameras in his kitchen as Sherlock tried- and failed- to find his voice and make conversation with John.

He would be finding it really funny- and would at a later date when he wasn't as distracted- if he wasn't busy seething.

And it wasn't anyone he could punish he was seething at, oh no. He was angry with himself.

It wasn't until he saw them together that he realized that the possibility of Sherlock taking John away from him- a reasonably small percentage, only about a ten percent, but it felt like a far too big number now- was a possibility that he couldn't live with.

And he was the one that had orchestrated their meeting in the first place!

If he hadn't placed well rehearsed words into reasonably reliable mouths then Sherlock would still be chasing a ghost instead of having tea with his Johnny.

And they were laughing now too!

It was an insufferable situation. And the fact that he had no-one but himself to blame just made it all the worse.

Trying to distract himself from the events on the monitor- I said be nice to him, John, not become his best friend!- Jim cast his mind back over the past eight months and tried to pinpoint the moment when he had become so captivated by the doctor.

With a groan he realized that he should have suspected something was up when he had brought John to his main residence to stay instead of giving the man one of his dozen or so safe-houses.

And then there was that incident that preceded John's finding out about his chosen profession...

_Jim had raced into the kitchen, gun in hand, when the noise had finally penetrated to him in his office. He came to a full stop when he saw what had caused such a ruckus._

_John was standing in the middle of the room, every surface covered in a splash of blood, looking every bit the dangerous man he hid under his fluffy jumpers and holding a pairing knife in one hand as he looked over the two cooling corpses on the floor._

_When Jim entered the room cold eyes that could freeze even his dead soul locked onto his own._

_"Jim, just why would a couple of assassins be after you?" Letting a little smile grace his face- and keeping a close eye on the small knife that John still held(he had already proved to be very adept at using it to great advantage if the fact that he was able to create such a mess as this from two heavily armed and armored hit-men with it was any indication)- Jim tried to make light of the situation._

_"Maybe they just don't like my dress sense?" John barely flickered an eyelid but Jim knew that jokes would no longer be tolerated until the soldier was satisfied._

_"Fine. They were probably hired by one of my rivals, or one of my clients- in my line of work it can sometimes be hard to tell the difference." Expecting questions about what line of work he was in that would require assassination attempts be taken in stride, or even just a full explosion once John had connected all the dots himself- he really was quite intelligent when he tried- Jim got an unexpected but pleasant surprise instead._

_"Okay then. I'll make us some tea while you call someone to come clean this up." John said as he gestured to the two, almost forgotten, bodies on the floor. He then rounded the kitchen island and placed his bloodied weapon in the sink before washing his hands and filling the kettle._

_All the while Jim just stared at John's back, unbelieving of what he had just heard._

_"John, aren't you even a little bit curious..." He cut himself off as John turned to look at him with one of those half smiles that said that he knew something that the other person didn't._

_"I already knew you were a criminal, Jim, it was kind of obvious after I moved in here with you. Besides, everyone at the base kind of figured that you had to be one after the way you vanished from the all our records once you left. Well, either that or you were government, but that theory never really felt right considering your personality." Taking the offered mug of fresh tea in hand, Jim followed John into the sitting room in a daze._

_No-one had ever figured him out without him realizing before._

_"Jim?" Turning back to look at John, who had taken the time that Jim had been lost in thought to change out of his blood stained clothes and into a fresh set, Jim raised an eyebrow in silent question; earning him an amused smirk from the shorter man._

_"The clean up crew? Shouldn't you call them in? I would rather not have to walk around a couple of dead assassins whenever I go to make myself a cuppa." While fumbling for his phone all Jim could think of was how surprising John was still turning out to be- and after a full month of living together too!_

Giving a sigh- he really should have realized just how hard he had fallen for the doctor before now- Jim turned his eyes back to the monitor in time to see Sherlock taking his leave of John.

Gritting his teeth- That bastard!- Jim thought up several ways to break every bone in the Consulting git's body.

John was his! That bloody bastard could find his own doctor! John was his!

John may have missed the parting once over that Sherlock had given him before leaving but Jim hadn't. And he would make the man pay for it too!

Taking a deep breath to calm himself- he couldn't really afford to rile Mycroft up at the moment by out-and-out mutilating his baby brother(no matter how much the bastard deserved it)- he refocused on a more important issue: getting John-I'm not gay!-Watson to agree to a relationship with him.

Deciding that the direct approach would be best- John really didn't like it when he tried manipulating him- he pulled out his phone and composed a text.

Bracing himself for an uphill battle- John could be a really stubborn man when he wanted to be- but determined to win the doctor over, Jim sent his message.

_Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night? JM _There, he had taken the first step.

The reply was almost immediate.

_I like to have dinner every night. :-) JW _Jim couldn't help but smirk at the cheeky answer even as he composed his next message.

_No. I meant dinner with me. JM _His noticed his hands shaking slightly as he sent the text and he clamped down hard on the emotion that was causing it.

He was not nervous damn it!

_As in a date? JW_

_Yes. JM_

_Then yes. JW _Jim had to reread the text several times before it fully sunk in, and when it did he felt like swooning.

_Text me the time and place and I'll be there. And Jim... JW_

_Yes? JM _Bracing himself anew for whatever new surprise that John wanted to throw at him, Jim hit send and waited for the reply. He didn't have long to wait.

_Thank you for finally getting your head out of your arse and asking. I didn't think I could take another eight months of dancing around each other. JW _

Jim's laughter rung out from his office and into the ears of several of his employees that hurried to get out of range as quickly as possible. Nothing good ever came when the boss was laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I'm sooo sorry about the long wait for this chapter! I can only hope this chapter is good enough to make up for the wait you all had to suffer through as my writers block cleared up._

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it then you know it isn't mine.**

John looked at the two disheveled geniuses seated on the floor of his sitting room with a look of utmost hurt and betrayal on his face.

He addressed Jim first, keeping his eyes averted from the growing red mark on the criminal's neck- he didn't need anymore reminders of what he had walked in on, thank you very much.

"I get it, you know. You and he were made for each other; I was just something to fill the gap until you got him." Not giving his lover- former lover- a chance to comment John turned to a smug looking Sherlock.

"And you, you could have had the decency to not make me believe we were actually friends when you were just using me to get at Jim. I get it now though: every conversation we had would always circled back around to Jim in some way. It makes me feel really stupid for not seeing it before." Sherlock no longer looked so smug.

John pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and both men flinched.

"I was going to propose over dinner tonight- but then, I'm sure you both knew that; probably deduced it before I'd even picked out the damn things." He tossed the box at Jim who caught it absently.

"Keep them, return them, melt them down, do whatever you want- you will anyway, the two of you always do- I'm done. I'm just... I'm done. I'll move out tomorrow, I'll stay in a hotel tonight. Have fun with each other- it's what you both wanted all along anyway." With that John turned and left, leaving before his emotions got the better of him and he broke down.

Silence reigned for several minutes after the doctor departed, broken only when Jim opened the small box and revealed two black-gold wedding bands.

"Damn."

"Indeed."

"This is all your fault."

"MY fault?"

"Yes! If you would have just _backed off _John would never have gotten the wrong idea about any of this!"

"Yes, and then he would have made the greatest mistake of his life."

"And just what would that be?"

"Saddling himself with _you _as a husband."

"And what, you would be such a better choice, _Virgin_?"

"At least I wouldn't endanger his life on a regular basis like you do."

"Ha! I bet. At least I can protect him. What would _you _do if he got kidnapped, call Big Brother and beg him for help?"

"I never beg."

"Yeah, well... (sigh)We've gotten off task."

"..."

"I need to figure out a way to fix this." Snaps the ring case closed decisively.

"Yes, _we _do." Jim let that slide, fixing things with John was more important than playing games with Sherlock- he just wished he'd realized that weeks, if not months, ago.

"Where to begin..."

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

John was sat in his favorite bar, slowly nursing a beer, when a familiar figure slipped into the booth with him.

"What do you want, Sebastian? I've said my peace with Jim, so if you're here at his behest..." The blonde sniper just chuckled as he took a sip of his whiskey.

"You know I don't get involved in the Boss's personal problems- unless it's to put an end to them permanently."

"So is that why you're here then, to put an end to the problem I've become?"

"Hardly. I'm here because a good friend of mine is drinking alone and I couldn't stand the thought of it." John smiled crookedly at that and clinked their glasses together, they settled into a comfortable silence after that; both lost in their own thoughts.

After the next round was severed- Seb switching to beer and John opting for a whiskey- the doctor began contemplating his companion.

Seb and he had met just a week after John had moved in with Jim, they had been friends since John had defended Jim from some assassins. It had been Seb who had pointed out afterwards what John had failed to notice in the heat of battle.

_"Damn, John, that is some neat work you did. Are you sure you were trained as a doctor and not as Special Forces?" John just snorted at that and sipped at his tea._

_"So you finally got over the limp, uh?" John nearly choked on his tea at that and turned a confused look on Jim's right hand man._

_"What?" The sniper had just chuckled as he handed over John's gore covered cane- rescued from the kitchen cleaning crew- to the surprised doctor._

_"You know, I've found that- since working for Jim- that I was never really haunted by what I'd done and seen in the war, I'd actually been missing it. I think you're much the same, John." They'd gone for companionable drinks the next night, they'd been good friend ever since._

"So, what happened tonight anyway?" John sighed in resignation at Seb's question. He'd known it was coming, but that didn't mean he was prepared to answer it quite yet.

"I'm not drunk enough to talk about this." He finally admitted.

"Fair enough. Waitress!"

Six beers and a bottle of scotch later John was starting to feel talkative.

"One year. One year! One year I've been living with that man, and this is the first time I've ever regretted it." John said, swaying ever so slightly.

"The first time, really? Not even once before? Even after the hedgehog incident?" Seb, who could hold his liquor better than most, asked in true awe. He'd known that John was something else- you didn't get invited to live with the World's Only Consulting Criminal if you weren't- but he hadn't realized just how truly special he was until now.

One year in Jim's presence, day-in and day-out, and John had no other complaints? Seb knew one thing for sure: he wouldn't have been able to handle it.

"That wasn't so bad, really. I only needed a few stitches... What was I talking about?"

"Living with Jim for one whole year."

"Yeah! And everything was fine until Sherlock showed up, or we started dating- whichever came first- and then things went to pot!"

_John grabbed Jim's tie and pulled him in for a deep and passionate kiss as they neared home._

_It had been the best first date either man had ever had, and each had very similar ideas on how to celebrate such an occurrence: they involved a bed, lubricant and being the one on top._

_As they turned up their street they were passed by several emergency crews, and John received a cryptic text:_

**_I have a spare room you can use if you're interested. SH_**

_Jim them received several texts of his own, but John didn't bother to find out what they said as they were now close enough to see their flat._

_It was a blazing inferno._

_John's phone buzzed again:_

**_Tell your boyfriend he shouldn't have pissed off those Russians. SH_**

"You would think neither man had ever shared a friend before! They've been acting like spoiled children, very intelligent spoiled children with psychotic tendencies."

_They were only homeless for two hours, Jim was quick to get them to one of his safe-houses; he even had all necessary personal supplies- new clothes, toiletries, electronic items- replaced and available by morning. It was one of the benefits of living with a genius with masterful organizational skills that John didn't have to worry about any of the fallout from the fire, but it did put a large damper on any and all amorous feelings for the night._

_Two days later, once John had settled a bit and Jim had had a chance to 'talk' with those responsible for the fire, they finally made it into bed together._

_It started in the kitchen with John making them tea, before either knew what was happening they were wrapped around each other and fighting each other for dominance in the kiss- it was the only battle either man wouldn't mind losing._

_John never figured out how they made it to his room so fast, but he also never complained about it._

_They attempted to undress each other, getting hopelessly tangled in the process, before finally breaking apart just long enough to pull off their top layers and then they sealed their mouths together once more; it was made all the hotter now that they could slide hands over hot flesh instead of cool cloth._

_The decision to move to the bed was made like all the ones before it: unanimously and without a word spoken._

_John managed, through dent of his military training, to gain the top position- though Jim was in no way complaining._

_"I want to see you, touch you... taste you." John breathed out hotly as he fumbled with Jim's belt and fly, after a moment he managed to get it open to both their reliefs._

_Slipping his hand inside, John shivered as his hand made contact with velvet soft skin._

_Jim moaned and bucked up into the contact._

_And, of course, that was the moment Sherlock chose to break in for a visit; making a beeline for the bedroom and walking in as if he owned the place._

_"John, are you busy?"_

_"Sherlock! Bloody hell. Get out!"_

_"But I need to ask you something." Sherlock then looked down at the flushed at shirtless Consulting Criminal with John's hand in his pants._

_"Jim Moriarty." He said with a nod of greeting, as if he hadn't just walked into the middle of a very intimate moment._

_"Sherlock Holmes." Jim returned the nod, surprisingly calm about the interruption._

_That was just too much for John, who was decidedly NOT okay with being cock-blocked._

_"This isn't the time for pleasantries. Out, Sherlock, now."_

_"But-"_

_"NOW!" The Consulting Detective turned and left room and- or so John supposed- the flat._

_An hour later- after he had made Jim beg for it, loudly, twice- John stepped out to get them something cool to drink and to nibble on while Jim rested, and come face to face with a seated Sherlock in the sitting room._

_"How long have you been there?"_

_"Since you ordered me out. Would you like to accompany me to the morgue tomorrow, they have a new Mass-Spectrometer that I'm going to break in for them."_

_John would later declare that it was the sheer embarrassment of having been listened to that caused him to say yes._

"At least now I know why he just sat there listening to us, he was living vicariously through me until he could have Jim for himself. Well, now he has him; and I wish them all the luck in the world."

"WHAT?! What the hell happened?! I thought you were going to propose?!" Sebastian exclaimed in true shock, completely thrown by what John had just said.

"Yeah, so did I. Then I caught them tonight..."

_John had just picked up the rings he'd ordered the week before and was now headed home with a bounce in his step, not even the thought of Sherlock crashing their date- as he usually did- could pull his mood down._

_Upon reaching the flat he heard the noise of a scuffle from within and so rushed inside to lend what aid he could- no-one was taking his Jim from him without a fight, no-one- but the sight that greeted him made him wish that it had indeed been a fight, even a bloodbath would have been better than what he found._

_Jim was on top, straddling Sherlock's hips and pinning the detective's hands to the floor above his head with one hand, the other was gripping Sherlock's purple shirt in a tight fist; John couldn't see Jim's expression because his face was turned away and buried in Sherlock's thick curls._

_For his part Sherlock was bucking his hips up against Jim and making obscene growling noises interspersed with sucking. John didn't need to be a genius- especially not after Jim began to groan in a way John knew all too well- to know that Sherlock was placing his mark on Jim's neck._

_He must have made a noise of some kind because the two men on the floor instantly rolled apart and looked up at him in surprise before he could make a quiet and dignified escape. Now he would be forced to talk about what had just happened, and he didn't know if he could without it ending in violence._

_"John, it's not what you think-"_

_"No, Jim, I don't want to hear it! How... how could..." John took a deep breath, he refused to let his breaking heart get the better of him, he would not cry; especially not in front of these two. They had just taken enough from him as it was._

_"John-"_

_"Shut it, Sherlock. Both of you, just... Just don't. No excuses. I get it, you know..._

"And then you just left?"

"Well, I wasn't going to stick around and watch; that's Sherlock's game."

"But..." Sebastian had no words, he had honestly thought that Jim had only had eyes for John. But now? He just didn't know what to think, or say for that matter.

With a sigh he did the only sensible thing he could think of to do.

"Come on, you're staying with me. Let's get a cab, we'll pick up your stuff tomorrow." Half guiding and half carrying John out of the bar Seb made a mental note to find out what Jim's side of the story was.

He just couldn't believe that Jim would cheat on John- and so carelessly as to get caught- and with Sherlock Holmes of all people.

Hailing a cab and helping his by now boneless friend into a seat Seb made a decision: if it turned out that what John saw was what truly happened then Shelock Holmes was a dead man, no matter what connections he had or who he was sleeping with, and Jim would need to find himself a new right hand too.

Sebastian didn't have too many friends- not many people were accepting of his lax morals and chosen profession- and so he took care of the ones he did have, and no-one hurt his friends as badly as John had been hurt and got away unscathed.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: A second chapter so soon, you ask? Why yes, yes it is. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: We've been over this a time or two already: I don't own, nor will I ever own, anything you recognize here.**

What happened just before John walked in the door:

"I won't let you keep him." Sherlock was all calm assurance as he sat across from Jim.

"Back off, Sherly, this isn't your decision to make." Jim calmly reasoned back, knowing that his calm acceptance would irritate the detective he had unfortunately brought into his and John's life more than anything else would.

"It is as much mine as it is yours." Jim had to suppress a snort at the man's sheer egotism.

"Oh? And how do you come to such a backwards conclusion?" He teased.

"John is my friend, he'll believe me once I explain to him just how wrong a choice he is making." Sherlock stated with all the confidence of a general on the battlefield, it was just his ill-luck to have finally run afoul a force he couldn't just bowl over.

"Bollox. He and I are going to marry no matter what you have to say, and if he hadn't decided to try and surprise me with the rings I would already be calling him my fiancé. So you're just going to have to deal with it." Sherlock narrowed his eyes fractionally- not enough for normal people to see, but more than enough for Jim to see what was coming.

Jim was already moving by the time Sherlock was halfway out of his chair.

"Really now, you know that violence is the last resort of a beaten man, don't you?" Jim quipped even as he slammed the hastily grabbed tea-tray into Sherlock's side, sending the detective to the floor.

"When all other avenues prove fruitless one must make do." The detective replied as he snaked a foot around Jim's knee and brought him down on top of him.

Sherlock went to wrap his longer frame around Jim's shorter one but was stopped as Jim managed to somehow maneuver himself to straddle Sherlock's hips.

"That's a trick I learned from John, he's very good at getting the upper hand in a tussle- though usually he and I are naked by this point." Sherlock went to grab at Jim but wound up getting his hands restrained above his head instead.

"Now, now, none of that." Sherlock went to twist away but Jim, after transferring both hands to one of his own, stopped that by grabbing the detectives shirt and slamming him back to the floor.

"You know, for the one who started this you're not very good at hand to hand combat. Maybe I should get John to give you some tips." Jim then leaned forward to whisper into Sherlock's ear.

"After our honeymoon, of course." Sherlock then reared forward and sank his teeth into Jim's neck while be bucked his hips, trying to get Jim off of him.

"You can't keep John! He's mine!" Or so Sherlock attempted to say, but since he had a mouthful of Jim's neck it came out more as jumbled nonsense and grunts than anything intelligible. He even had to suffer the indignity of slurping as he couldn't risk losing his one advantage just to swallow properly.

For Jim's part he was cursing himself for having been so foolish as to give Sherlock such an opening as he had, now he was going to have to explain the nasty bite mark Sherlock was giving him to John; and John never reacted well whenever he got hurt.

Not wanting to give Sherlock the satisfaction of knowing just how much this really hurt, Jim pretended that it was John biting him instead. It worked so well that, instead of crying out in pain, he moaned out in pleasure. That was so embarrassing.

A small gasp, almost a whimper, had Jim rolling off Sherlock to look up at a devastated John.

It didn't require a genius level IQ to know what the scene he had walked in on had looked like.

"John, it's not what you think-" Jim tried, but John wouldn't have any of it.

"No, Jim, I don't want to hear it!"

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

The next day:

John awoke with a hangover and a heavy heart late in the morning, only vaguely remembering Sebastian waking him up with a glass of water and an aspirin before heading out to who knows where to do who knows what.

Rolling off the bed, John didn't even bother finding his shoes before heading out to find the bathroom and the kitchen- in that order.

"Good morning, Dr. Watson." Came a falsely cheerful greeting from the sitting room as John finally managed to locate the kitchen.

Not bothering to acknowledge the greeting- he couldn't deal with Mycroft Bloody Holmes until he'd had his morning tea- John set to making two cups instead of one.

How he hated these impromptu visits, he had ever since the first one four months ago.

_John opened the door of the exam room fully expecting to find a patient with a sprained wrist, but what he found instead was a well dressed man holding a file and looking at him as if he had just been scraped off the bottom of pair of expensive Italian loafers._

_"Hello Mr. uh... Smith?" John finally realized how bad this could be and began backing out the door, only to have that avenue blocked by a woman typing away on a phone._

_"Let us dispense with formalities, Dr. Watson, I'm only here to ask you a few questions concerning your intentions towards one Sherlock Holmes. Answer me honestly and we can be done here in no time at all." Realization hit and John visibly slumped in relief._

_'The Ice Man is a force to be reckoned with, much like myself, and especially where his little brother is concerned. I keep eyes on him, so don't worry if he approaches you, I won't let him make you disappear. Just let him talk, it's something he loves to do, and answer his questions as truthfully as you can- that's something that almost never happens and so is likely to throw him for a loop. Ha!' John rolled Jim's advise around his head a moment before turning to the be-suited man in his exam room._

_"How may I help you today, Mr. Holmes? And if this is about Sherlock you should know that I only just met him earlier today." Mycroft looked putout at having lost his greatest element of mystery, but he quickly regrouped and carried on._

_"Earlier today, yes. And right after he met you he went out and moved himself into a larger flat that he really needs a flatmate to afford, saying all the while that he has someone in mind. Do you know anything about this?"_

_"No, but I wish him all the luck with whomever he finds. He doesn't really strike me as someone who gets on well with others."_

_"Indeed. What are you plans for future contact with Sherlock, doctor?"_

_"My plans? I don't have any. But I won't turn him away if he shows up again, I have a feeling he needs all the support he can get- even if he doesn't realize it himself." Mycroft then snapped his file shut and began heading for the door._

_"Thank you for your time, doctor, I'll be in touch."_

_"Yeah, I just bet you will." John muttered once the elder Holmes brother was well out of ear shot. His phone then pinged and he fished it out to find a text from Jim._

**_Your first meeting with the Ice Man and you survived! Not so bad, was it? And I've finally decided on where I'm taking you tomorrow. It's a surprise so don't bother asking where. JM_**

_John put his phone up and got back to work, he still had a long shift ahead of him._

"What do you want, Mycroft?" John asked bluntly even as he handed over the second mug of tea and took a seat as far from the other man as he could.

"Ah, but this time it isn't what I want. This time it is what I have been asked to deliver." He produced a memory stick from some inner pocket and laid it on the table alongside his untouched tea.

"As much as I loathe being reduced to a mere errand boy the payment for this was simply too much to pass up."

"How many cases does Sherlock have to do for you now? And what is on that?"

"I'm not privy to such details, though I suspect it's security footage from your flat last night. And as for my payment, well..." Mycroft stood and, with a sweep so dramatic it might have even made Sherlock proud, headed for the door.

"I never said it was Sherlock that owed me, now did I?" Then he was gone, leaving behind only the memory stick and a greasy feel of smugness in the air.

Giving in and picking up the small thing, John quickly placed it in one of Seb's unsecured laptops- he had several, each set up for a different purpose- and played the video file that was on it before he could change his mind.

Mycroft was right, it was, indeed, security footage- with sound- from the night before.

John almost turned away, not wanting to see all this all over again, but stopped himself as he realized what they were talking about.

They were talking about him! More specifically, they were talking about how Jim wanted to marry him and Sherlock wanted to keep him- John- all to himself, the selfish bastard.

And them the fight began, and John saw himself enter at the worst possible moment.

He saw how lost Jim looked as he opened the ring box after he had left.

He listened two the two geniuses talk as if getting him back were the most important thing in the whole of the World.

And then Jim spoke to him.

_"I need to figure out a way to fix this."_

_"Yes _we _do."_

_"Where to begin..." _On the screen Jim suddenly looked up at the camera and right into John's eyes.

_"John..." _Jim stood up and walked closer to the hidden camera so that John could see his face clearly and the depth of emotion that lay there.

_"I can't even begin to apologize for this, for what you saw, for what you thought... for how you must surely feel at this very moment. But, if you will let me, I will spend the rest of my life making sure that you never feel this way again. Please John, I'm begging you, give me a second chance." _Jim opened the ring box once more and placed one of the rings on his finger.

_"My answer is yes, John, it will always be yes. You are the only man- the only person in the whole World- that I would ever want to spend my life with. But if you don't want to anymore then that is fine, I'll completely understand. Just... come home. Please! Just come home." _The video stopped after that and John was left staring at a blank screen.

How could Jim think that he wouldn't still want to marry him? The idea of it was utterly preposterous! Even when he'd been drowning his sorrows in bottle after bottle he had still longed to walk down that long aisle and join himself to his lovably insane lover for the rest of his life.

Wiping his face clean- he didn't know when the tears had started but he wouldn't return to Jim with their tracks in fresh evidence- John grabbed his shoes and his wallet and made his way to the front door.

Opening it he found Jim standing there, looking more unsure than at any other time before in their acquaintance.

"I couldn't wait to find out your answer, I'm sorr-!" John cut off his words with a feral kiss, all teeth and tongue and need.

Pulling Jim back into the flat John sent up a silent prayer that Seb wouldn't return home for a good long while.

"He won't, I had to send him out of the country until everything settled down. He was very... upset over what happened and itching to put a bullet in the one responsible." Jim managed to get out when they broke air for a moment.

"Good!" Was all John had to say to that as he tugged Jim over to the couch and began undressing him.

"This doesn't mean you're fully forgiven(off comes the suit jacket and shirt) I was really hurt last night(the pants bunch at the knees but John doesn't care, the important parts are exposed) you are going to have to work hard to make it up to me."

"I know, John, and I'm willing to put in the effort for as long as it takes." So saying Jim reached down and wrapped his hand around John's member- which was a feat as John hadn't noticed his clothes being opened in his rush to get Jim naked- and made the doctor jump.

"Jim, are- are you wearing my ring?" John could feel it, that smooth band of skin heated metal on Jim's finger, as it moved along his need swollen cock.

"Yes. I never plan to take it off. Unless, of course, you want me to." Jim stilled his hand movements as he looked up at John, a smidgen of fear in his eyes.

It made John's heart swell to know that he was the one person Jim trusted enough to show such a thing to.

Leaning down, pressing his body as close to Jim's as possible, John whispered against his lover's lips even as he adjusted them to line up perfectly with each other.

"The only time I want to see you not wearing that ring is when I get to put it on you myself, understood?" Jim nodded and then gasped as John thrust against him.

"My beautiful, crazy love, I can't wait to call you all mine." John growled a he started getting close.

"Yes, John, yes! All yours! Only yours!" Jim panted out his agreement as he let John manhandle him into their release. Oh how he love it when John topped.

They came together- on an unsuspecting Sebastian's couch- with words of love and desire on their kiss swollen lips.

Afterwards as the lay resting, Jim drawing abstract patterns with his finger on John's back, a question that needed to be asked was finally put forth.

"What about dear Sherly? He won't stop trying to come between us, and I can't just kill him now that he's one of your friends."

"Don't worry about Sherlock, I have something terribly appropriate in mind as punishment for his part in all of this."

"Oh? Do tell."

"All in good time, Jim, but first you need to replace Seb's couch for me. I won't have a friend of mind, who was all too willing to defend my honor to someeone elses death, coming home to a jizz soaked sofa." Jim laughed as John knew he would and the world settled back to the way it should always be.

And it would stay that way up until John asked Sherlock to be his bestman, and then it would all go to hell again.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: Last chapter! I hope you all enjoy it as it was a joy to write!_

_On a side note: if there is enough desire out there for an epilogue detailing their honeymoon I'll be glad to give it a go._

_Now then. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I so do not own this.**

If John had been a bride he would be having hysterics right now.

If John was the type of man to care about decorum he would be in tears.

If John was any kind of lesser man he would be down on that dance floor right now screaming his head off for those two idiots to stop.

But instead of any of that, John was seated comfortably off to one side sharing a drink with Sebastian and watching the unfolding horror in macabre fascination.

"You know, I had no idea anyone still knew how to do the Macarena."

"Yeah, well, I can see why."

Oblivious to the stares they were both getting from the few guests that had lasted through Sherlock's rambling and slurred speech the two inebriated geniuses- Sherlock drugged Jim's drink and Jim tricked Sherlock into downing straight vodka instead of water- continued to gyrate across the floor, each trying to out do the other with the outlandishness of their moves.

"You are getting all this recorded, right?"

"You bet."

Clinking their glasses together the two friends continued to watch in fascinated horror as the music switched to a tango and the duo on the dance floor began fighting about who would lead. John was just happy that Sebastian was still by his side after his having named Sherlock as his bestman.

_"You do realize why I'm asking Sherlock and not you, right?"_

_"Not really. He has tried to break you and Jim up several times already- not counting the most recent fiasco- so why would you want him anywhere near your wedding? He's sure to cause a scene at the very least."_

_"Yeah, but just think of it this way: What better way to pay the idiot back for all the grief he's caused me than by making him a central figure in a wedding ceremony he wants absolutely nothing to do with?" Seb began laughing at that._

_"And here I was thinking that Jim was the devious one in your relationship!" John smirked at that, happy with the compliment._

_"You know that you would have been my first choice as bestman if it weren't for Sherlock, right?" Seb shrugged it off but John wasn't through yet._

_"But it's a good thing Sherlock did come along, I suppose; I wouldn't have a mate by my side on my big day without him."_

_"Oi! What're you saying? I would make a great bestman!"_

_"I know that, and so does Jim." Seb froze, flabbergasted. _

_"Which is why he's going to ask you to be his just as soon as I remind him that he has to ask instead of just assuming you'll do it." John finished, pleased with Sebastian's pole-axed state._

_Seb finally gave a snort and reached for his beer._

_"Two bestmen, you and Jim are spoiled."_

_"True. Maybe I should start referring to Sherlock as my Maid of Honor instead." John couldn't suppress a grin as beer shot across the room and Seb began to cgoke on his laughter._

"I only hope that I'll be able to look back on all this one day and laugh." John sighed out as Jim finally took the lead and the spun Sherlock off into the refreshments table.

"And there goes your cake, I told you you'd never get the chance to cut it with those two around."

John just sighed and sipped his drink as the rest of the guests departed, he just prayed that the honeymoon went better than this.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Jim awoke with a splitting headache and the taste of apricots in his mouth- he made a mental note to get the drug Sherlock had used put into production, he could make a fortune with it.

Looking around, Jim's first thought was: Where's John?

His second thought was: Why am I not on the ship?

He remembered the wedding- he had been vibrating so hard with delight that John had almost been unable to slip the ring on his finger.

He remembered sipping his drink and only then noticing it had been spiked- Sherlock was getting better, he'd give him that.

He remembered switching Sherlock's water for vodka at the last moment- that had been so much fun!

But he didn't remember the reception or anything before waking up in his and John's bed.

Climbing from under the warm covers- he wouldn't find any answers while just laying around- Jim headed out to the kitchen, sure that he would find John in the middle of a cup of tea and not too disappointed with having missed their cruise.

Instead he found Sebby- you looked far too amused and so made Jim instantly suspicious- and a paused laptop.

"You should watch this before you start asking questions." So saying the sniper hit play and let the horror shine.

Jim blinked as what he was seeing sank in.

He was in a dance off against Sherlock, he was doing the robot while the detective did the pony, and then they started doing the electric slide.

Sinking into a chair in abject humiliation, Jim started to worry at John's continued absence.

And then he tangoed Sherlock into the giant, three-tiered cake- before they had gotten around to cutting it- and Jim knew he may never be forgiven for this.

The video finally, thankfully, ended as John and Sebby hustled him into a car- Sherlock wailing in the back ground about how Mycroft was going to eat him now that he tasted of cake and Jim himself began begging John to let him(Jim) have his(John's) children- and drove out of sight.

"Where is John?" He finally asked once he managed to find his voice.

"On the cruise you were supposed to take, said that it shouldn't go to waste just because you had acted like a jackass and let yourself get drugged." Nodding to show he had heard, Jim went to go get dressed. He had a cruise ship to catch up to after all.

Left alone in the kitchen Seb pulled out his phone and sent a text saying that it was done.

**Did he buy it? JWM**

**Hook, line and sinker. SM**

**I only wish that I could see there faces, but Mycroft says Sherlock has already removed all the cameras. JWM**

**Too bad, we could have added it to the archive we've started. :-D SM**

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Jim took a helicopter out to the in route ship- it was supposed to be only for emergencies, but no-one could tell(and hope to live through the experience) Jim that reaching his new husband's side wasn't an emergency- and quickly headed to their reserved suit.

And there he found a severely annoyed Sherlock.

Jim's phone went off.

**He followed me aboard, so I jumped ship at the last moment. Try not to throw him overboard, I've only just gotten him to agree not to do so with you. JWM**

**I really didn't appreciate being humiliated at my own wedding, you know, so consider this as both your punishments for putting me through that. JWM**

Reading this- realizing that John had managed to trick not only him but Sherlock as well- Jim threw his head back and laughed.

"We're stuck sharing a honeymoon suit until this ship makes port, so I don't see what you think is so funny." That just made Jim laugh all the harder.

This- this right here- was one of the many, many reasons that he loved his Johnny so much.

**Stay with the boat after Sherlock leaves, I'll catch up to you in Marseille and then we can finally consummate our marrage. XXXOOO JWM**


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Epilogue time! It wasn't planned, but the story said it wasn't finished without one. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing here that you may recognize, and I am very sad about that.**

Mycroft Holmes had never liked John Watson, not one bit.

It was nothing personal, mind you, it was just simply the company the doctor chose to keep- not to mention the obsession his baby brother had developed for the man within minuets of having met him.

Perhaps if the doctor had met Sherlock first things would be different, but they had to live in the world they had so there was no use wasting time on 'could have beens'.

Entering his office, resigned to meeting with who he knew was waiting for him there, Mycroft plastered on his fakest smile as he moved to his chair and greeted the doctor with all the warmth of a spitting cobra- or an overly protective older brother.

"Dr. Watson- sorry, it's Dr. Watson-Moriarty now, isn't it?- what a surprise to see you here; I was under the impression you were to be on a cruise experiencing connubial bliss this morning, not staked out in my office like an overly friendly assassin." John smirked into his tea- Mycroft's assistant really did make quite a good cuppa- before fishing a memory stick from his pocket and laying it on the expanse of desk between them.

"As I'm sure you are quite aware: Sherlock followed me onboard and is now stranded in a luxurious suite out at sea, and Jim is still knocked out from whatever it was Sherlock fed him." He indicates the small storage device resting on the desk.

"This is my attempt at bribing you into not interfering with Sherlock's punishment for his part in ruining my wedding, and into leaving Jim alone when he panics and heads for the ship while thinking I'm actually the one on it." Raising a brow- the only outward sign of the intrigue he was feeling- Mycroft picked up the memory stick and plugged it into the secured computer on his desk.

He pulled up the single file on it and hit play.

There was a tugging at the corner of Mycroft's lips when he saw his little brother trying to win a dance off while drunk, it was suppressed and ignored.

A suspicious bubbling in his throat was harder to tamp down as Sherlock went careening into the wedding cake.

But when he heard his confident and unflappable terror of a brother whining about how he tasted of cake and was gong to get eaten he finally lost control.

For the first time in twenty years Mycroft Holmes let out a genuine chortle of real humor while in the presence of another- that was going on his phone as an alert whenever Sherlock bothered him, he could always use a pick-me-up at those times.

Gaining control of himself quickly, the 'minor' government employee turned to the patiently waiting man that had had his honeymoon put on hold and asked the question that was uppermost on his mind.

"Do you have this in any other angles? Mumsy does so like multiple angles in her home movies." Handing over two more memory sticks before exiting with an unspoken assurance that his plans for the day would not be interfered with, John smiled down at his phone just as a text came in from Seb. He'd gotten that taken care of just in time.

Inside the security of his office, Mycroft Holmes- a man many of his employees thought had no emotion save snobbish- muffled his laughter in his hankie as he watched the two videos.

The first was a second camera's angle on the events of the night before and was set aside.

The second- the one that had started him laughing- showed the hours after the happy couple had left and Sherlock's attempts to make himself taste as unappealing as possible. His favorite part was when Sherlock broke into the grounds keepers shed and started rubbing cow manure all over himself.

Mumsy was going to love this so much she may even finally forgive him for letting her baby get close to Moriarty in the first place.

Perhaps John Watson wasn't such a bad fellow after all, he mused. At least when he wasn't surrounded by mad geniuses, he amended.

JMWJWMJMWJWMJMWJWMJMWJWMJMWJWMJMWJWM

John stood in the doorway of the honeymoon suite and watched, highly amused, as Jim tried to oust Sherlock from their rooms.

"He's _my _husband, _not yours_, so shift your arse and get a move on!" Sherlock was as cool as anything as he very pointedly did not move.

"You and John will not be engaging in bed sport the entire time we are at sea- it is physically impossible to do so- so I reserve the right, as his friend, to call on John's time whenever he is not servicing your physical desires." Stepping in at this point to save Sherlock from a suddenly murderous Jim- though, considering that 'servicing' comment, John was hard pressed not to let Jim get a few good licks in- John took over the conversation.

"Sherlock, you watched the video from the wedding that I sent you, correct?" A wary nod.

"Good. Because if you don't shift your arse back to London this minute Seb will have sent a copy of it to every member of Scotland Yard by morning!" Sherlock moved so fast he should have left a dust trail.

Jim turned to his husband with wide eyes.

"Have I told you recently just how much I love you?"

"No, but you can start making it up to me by locking the door and helping me slip into something a little more... comfortable." The door slammed so hard it wedged and then buttons went flying to every corner of the room.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

"Oh yes, Jim. Just a bit lower. Right there! Ohhhh... yes..." John was in heaven as Jim used his magic fingers to loosen every tense muscle in his aching body.

After five rounds of vigorous sex John was surprised either of them were still conscious let alone able to give or receive a message.

Their first round of incredible post-nuptial physicality had been chaotic, all grabbing and tearing off of clothes and needing each other so bad that neither lasted more than a few minutes.

The second had been slow, so slow John had felt he would die if Jim didn't hurry it along, but it had been beautiful; and when John came without Jim once having touched him it was down right magical.

Their third was accidental, and was simply due to them not being able to let go of each other, they couldn't stop kissing and touching and one thing had led to another as it usually does.

Round four was perfectly planned out by Jim, it commenced once his order of chocolate covered strawberries and champagne arrived, and John knew he'd never look at a simple piece of fruit the same way again.

Big number five was all John though, involving silk restraints and a blindfold, and had had the unfortunate side effect of cramping the good doctor's back up something fierce; which led them to where they were now.

"Some way to start a honeymoon." John chuckled out before moaning as Jim hit a particularly bunched up set of muscles.

"I don't know, I think we're doing alright. After all: it's our honeymoon and as long as we're happy with it then no one else's opinion matters."

"Yeah, you're right. Like usual."

"Of course I am! Besides, we've only just begun and we still have several weeks and an entire cruise through the Mediterranean to go! And I don't plan to let you out of this room before we've rounded Spain, so don't worry about catching up on what we've missed." John buried his face in a pillow to hide his flaming blush.

"My husband plans on killing me with sex less than a week after our wedding!" Was his muffled complaint, though it was off set by his laughter.

Jim answered this tease by biting one John's exposed cheeks.

"Jim!" Gasped John as he reared up and turned to his smirking husband.

"Come on, Johnny-boy, you know it's the way you want to go." Swallowing any further comment John might have wanted to make with a deep, tongue filled kiss, Jim set to work on starting round number six.

JMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJWJMJW

Back in London a very put out Sherlock Holmes was sitting in his brother's flat and having tea with dear old Mumsy.

"It was just the cutest thing I have seen you do since you were five years old and running naked through the garden. You simply must come to your dear cousin's next wedding and teach everyone that one dance you were doing- What was it called again, Mycy dear?"

"The 'Electric Slide', I do believe." The glare Sherlock sent his older brother could strip paint. How dare he show that video to their mother! That was just being petty.

"Ah yes, of course, curious name; but then again it is American. So what do you say, Sherlock dear?" Preparing to say something scathing concerning his cousin, dancing in general and interfering older brothers; Sherlock was cut off as Mycroft's phone began to ring with a new and never before heard ringtone.

"I'm cake now! Mycroft's going to eat me! I'm too delicious to get eaten!" Sherlock stared horrified at his brother as he took the call and wandered off.

"I'm so glad to see Mycy is still taking an interest in what you do, Sherlock, and turning it into such a lovely melody for his phone too. I wonder if he'd be willing to send me a copy of it?" At a complete loss for words, and completely flabbergasted as to how simple John Watson had managed to so thoroughly stitch him up, Sherlock sipped his tea and began planning his revenge.

But first he would need to destroy every copy of that damnable recording that there was!


End file.
